Tuesday, February 22, 2011

Here it is almost impossible to have a moment of silence. You have people pulling at you in all directions and (the nerd that I am) I could not think of a better analogy for my life other than Polarity. Polarity. What else could I imagine?A mole? Not the animal, oh no, the most unnerving sense of Chemistry to every Chemist. 6.03x10 to the 23. That is one mole. But one mole varies on the molecule. Or atom, per say. If you have lithium the mole changes to 2.80x10 to the 24. This got my thinking. If moles are essentially how much something is worth, then could we count humans as moles.Lets say an average person is a normal, set average, mole. 6.03x10 to the 23. But what if there was someone like Lithium, with a mole average of 2.80x10 to the 24? Or the lowest mole of Barium with .98x10 to the 23? Would this mass of a human be someone like a psychokiller? Someone who has built their whole life on ruining others. . But what this would fail to realize is that to find the average mass of this we would need to times their mole by ours. So, .98x10 to the 23 and 6.03x10 to the 23 would equal 7.31? x 10 to the twenty third. So, this being said I have made a revelation, through Chemistry. . Who would have thought?Just as a mole is a piece of mass, a piece of a worth, so are humans. And just as mole we feed our surroundings, good or bad. This also being said here is my revelation. . Be careful what you do, people are always watching. Don't be the contributor to a lesser mole.

Thursday, February 17, 2011

I have never been so angry in my life, honestly. Or more depressed. I have these flickers; ten minutes of perfect serenity, and then I'll punch a hole in the wall. And then, after staring at it for a few moments, contemplating why I just hit a wall, I'll start crying about it. And this all started because of Cameron. Great, I said, I even promised, I'd never let someone control my emotions and then my best friend goes and dies. .Hmmm? Yes, well. You know, I doubt I'd be feeling this way if I hadn't let him go off and overdose without so much as a word. The last thing I ever said to him was icy, brutal. . hateful. And then he died.1

And, Charlie St. Cloud, guess what? Real people can't see dead people, no matter how much they wish they could. 2

For the past. . 4 months? I've been a wreck, an utter and complete bubble of ruin. Not to mention Randy. Great guy, very charming. But a loser. No plans, no drive, nothing. So I go and break it off, my feelings of self doubt consuming me until even the people around me know. And then he gets kidney failure. Great, am I going to lose him too? 3

I'm not sure what God has going on up there, what he's playing at, but unless somethings done soon. . I even took Tarot Cards. I don't put a lot of value in those sort of things but today, with Chelsea, I did. And what did I get? The Tower, which may I add, stands for "false concepts and institutions that we take for real." When the reader gets this card, they can expect to be shaken up, to be blinded by a shocking revelation. My revelation; God is Impossible.4

But that's not all, oh no. Go Moon! With Pisces as its ruling sign, the Moon is visions and illusions, madness, genius and poetry.. it warns that there might be hidden enemies, tricks and falsehoods. So, who's going to take me down this time?5

And, shall I continue? The Hermit..the card that says I should have 'a desire for peace and solitude'. Yeah well, news flash. I do. 6

So, whats left for me to say? What's left for me to do? Jump off a cliff? Maybe make some more pretty little scars? Yes, like I need that. You recover from one thing and get another. But yet, the vice is alway the same. Damn it.

Tuesday, February 15, 2011

Cameron, I hope for the love of god that one day I will be forgiven for all of the things that I didn't do. All of the things that I DIDN'T see. I see know all of those moments where I wasn't helping, I was hindering. . anything! I remember when you went to Bobby's house a few days later and he told me you had smoked weed, I was furious! I was so upset that you would lie to me even after I helped you, but then I calmed down and that night I called you, asking you to just listen, to just stop and smell the roses for once, to realized that drugs didn't need to be a part of anything you ever needed. You kind of had a tone with me that seemed like you were regretting everything, and I never wished more to hug someone in my life. I remember this because in ninth grade when I was so in "like" with you, you used to tell me things about how great the world was, how we all just needed to take a step back. I remember you saying this, "Goodnight Angelito, just remember, it's always darkest before the dawn. The sun will rise for us, we just don't know how." The sun is rising every morning and every morning I thank god that I am here to see it. The only problem is that I wish you could see it too, but you are up there with the sun, looking down with it, probably laughing when we stumble and crying with us when we break. The sun will rise for us, we just don't know how.

Tuesday, February 8, 2011

It was with the usual emotions teenagers feel when they're about to embark on an adventure—without their parents—that some 40 students from Elim Christian College in Auckland, New Zealand assembled on Sunday morning. Their school-holiday excursion entailed a five-hour bus ride to an outdoor center in the Central North Island, where they were to spend five days bonding with one another, developing their leadership skills and having fun.

But the experience turned into a catastrophe on Tuesday afternoon, when a sudden storm during a canyoning exercise caused the deaths of six of the students and a teacher. Canyoning, also called canyoneering, is an increasingly popular sport in which participants walk, run, climb, and swim through river gorges. All of the dead drowned when they were washed away by a flash flood.

At a special assembly in the school hall on Wednesday morning, principal Murray Burton read out the names of the dead. The six students — three boys and three girls — were all 16 years old; teacher Tony McClean was 29. Addressing an audience that included students, parents and politicians, Burton struggled to explain the tragedy to the community: "I don't mind if you're angry," Burton said. "Be angry at God because He can handle that. But keep trusting."

At least three separate investigations—one by the North Palmerston Coroner— will try to piece together what went wrong. The canyoning trip was run by the Sir Edmund Hillary Outdoor Pursuits Centre (OTC), which is reported to have had a flawless safety record since its inception in 1973. Experienced staff were supervising the Elim College children, who were decked out in wetsuits, helmets, flotation vests and harnesses. Conditions were fine when their outing on Mangatepopo River, part of the rugged, remote Tongariro National Park, began in the early afternoon.

There is disagreement about what the weather forecast had been for that afternoon. The OTC maintains there had been no prediction of heavy rain. However, a local bureau, MetService, is saying otherwise. What is clear is that at around 3:30 a downpour, described by OTC chief executive Grant Davidson as a "rain bomb," struck the area, causing an extremely rapid rise in the river's water level. It soared from 0.5 cubic meter to 18 cubic meters in half an hour, according to Davidson. "I have seen that amount of water but I have never seen it come down at that speed," he said. Trapped in a gorge, separated for reasons unclear from the rest of the party, doomed students and their teacher were swept away. All the bodies have been recovered, the last two by helicopter just before dawn on Wednesday.

The remainder of the group returned by bus on Wednesday afternoon to Elim College. The school released brief profiles of the deceased students: Natasha Bray, Floyd Fernandes, Tara Gregory, Huan Hsu, Portia McPhail and Anthony Mulder. McPhail's reads, in part: "Portia was a gentle, kind, mature girl who loved playing and coaching netball." Teacher McLean is described as "an amazing teacher who loved God, life, students and sport." Natasha Bray's father said the loss of his daughter had shaken his faith, but he did not blame the OPC. "They have got a process to go through," he said. "We don't have an axe to grind." But for the New Zealand public, the disaster may raise doubts about whether adventure activities should be a part of school education.

I follow a blog of a girl, a girl who was friends with this Natasha Bray girl. It makes me so sad to read about her feelings upon her friends death, only because I know the feeling. I encourage everyone to educate and open their minds to what is really happening and when you think people should "deal with it" I urge you to do some research, find out why they are so distraught. Things like this happen everyday and it is horrible. Rest in peace, Natasha, Portia, Floyd, Tara, Huan, Anthony and my own, Cameron.

Sunday, February 6, 2011

I turned around and found searching green eyes staring back at me. I bit my lip a little, moving not even a centimeter but still being noticed. Randy stood in front me, the image of perfection. This was the image I struggled so hard to forget. His shirt was hanging from his hands, his chiseled chest with its etched lines was bear. His arms were hanging somewhat tensely, showing off the muscles in his biceps. This was Randy.

“Hey, blondie, pay attention to me,” He said and I shot my eyes from his arms back to his face.

“What?”

“Come here,” he gave me a little wink and I laughed, pulling away from his arm reach.

“What are you doing,” I screeched, running on the other side of the bed, using it as a shield.

“Does it matter? Come here,” he laughed back with me and circled around, forcing me into the corner.

I could feel his breath on my neck as he stared down on me, his green eyes flashing mischievously. His arms were against the wall, creating a box that I was locked in. I reached up with a shaking hand and touched his cheekbone, the scruff on it tickling my palm. I closed my eyes a little and gave a sigh. When I opened them I saw a glimmer of pink and then it was gone.

“You were going to kiss me,” I offered up, hoping he would take the chance.

“I was,” Randy agreed, in one swift movement his arms were back by his side and I could breathe again. “I’ll call you when I get home.”

He flashed me a perfect smile and my heart twanged a little, sending my stomach down to my feet. This was Randy, this was someone I couldn’t like, but it was a little late for that. Randy threw his shirt over his head and wiggled into it, covering up his muscles.

“It was a fun workout, thanks Hersh,” he said and opened my door, disappearing with a wink.

“Was that the last night before he told you,” Jeremy asked as I sat with my legs folded on his bed.

“No, we had a few more nights like that. But he kept it hidden pretty well, he never let me believe anything was wrong.”

“Did you suspect it?”

“No, I honestly thought he was fine,” I looked out the window at the cool April day, the green of Vermont was even more this morning because of the rain. It had given the whole scene a glisten.

“He never told anyone, Jay. I don’t want you to feel like he purposely left you out of the loop,” Jeremy said, walking over from against his dresser to sit next to me.

“I know, that’s not what I’m worried about, I just can’t. . . I can’t live without him here, Jeremy. I just can’t,” I leaned into his shoulder and his curly black hair brushed my head.

“Yes, you can. I promise you, you can,”

“No one has heard from him in almost a year, not since April. . . I don’t think . . .He’s dead isn’t he,” I wiped a tear from my eye and shrugged a little.

His blue-grey eyes met mine and he gave me a little smile. His smile was a crooked one, always had been, and many girls fell for that. We had been friends for ten years, I was over it.

“You’ll be okay, he’ll come back to you,” he said and I smiled.

“Thanks, Jeremy.”

“You are such a god-rotting cheater,” Randy yelled as I stole the ball from him.

“Steal,” I shouted back, dribbling up the court, evading him with a turn. “And swish.”

The ball flew from my tips and arched in air, hanging suspended for a moment. The twist that the flick of my wrist had given it allowed it to maneuver around the backboard. I grinned and turned to Randy who had his hands on his hips. He shook his head at me and I ran over, hugging him tightly.

“Oh, you sore loser,” I muttered, running my fingers through the back of his brown hair.

“I never lose,” the tone of his voice shook me and I looked up at him. “Never.”

He bent his head and gave me a shy little smile, the breath that washed over me stunned me and all I could do was smile. I shivered as the image of his lips drifted before my eyes. Something hit my ankles and I stumbled forward. Randy stumbled backward as he tried to catch me but he lost his balance and we both went down.

“Ouch,” I groaned as my elbow hit the wooden floor.

“Agreed,” Randy said, rubbing the back of his head.

“I’m sorry,” I situated myself to look at him.

Looking down on him, I saw the dark circles around his eyes, the little difference of paleness that now touched his skin. I furrowed my eyebrow, moving my hand, tracing the new circles under his eyes. He closed them in response and sighed a little, almost as if he was regretting something. He could break my heart, and I think we both knew that but each of us was begging for it not to happen.

“You were going to kiss me,” I whispered, bending my head down toward his.

“Yes,” he said, his voice exhausted.

I moved my arm and kissed his cheek, my whole body shaking. His hand grabbed behind my neck and gently turned me so that my lips were touching his but not kissing. He moved his other arm behind him and sat up, forcing me to sit as well. Before I could move from off his lap, he reached up and cupped me chin, bringing my lips to his.

His lips moved in perfect sync with mine, gentle and not to pressuring. He held onto me by the small of my back, but I didn’t need it. I moved closer to him, thinking that even if we were one it would never be close enough for me.

“Marry me,” he whispered, pulling away slightly.

“What,” I didn’t move but my heart went into overdrive.

“Jaycee Samantha Ava Raey, marry me.”

“I. . . You can’t be serious?”

He took my hand and helped me stand up. He kept hold of it and dragged me toward his things that he had brought to my house. He bent down and started rummaging through his pack, looking a little bit distraught.

“Randy. . .” I started.

“Found it,” he turned towards me, bent down and then I saw the little, black, velvet box.

“And I’m twenty-three and I’ve never felt like this in all of my dating life. I knew, from the moment I saw you, from the first words you spoke to me, I knew that I loved you.”

“Randy, my first words to you were stop being an idiot. . .” I gave a little laugh but he shook his head.

“No, I mean in an actual conversation, just between us.”

“Oh. . .”

“I know that Cameron had just died and everything and you were a little distraught, but Jaycee, I loved you.”

“I didn’t. . .”

“Yes or no, Jay.”

I stumbled around my thoughts for a moment, thinking of all the things that I could say, all the ways that I could say yes and all the ways I could say no. All the reasons that I should or shouldn’t, all the things that could go wrong. Nothing.

Inspiration

You never know when something is going to happen, sometimes you just have to hold on tight and hope that you don't fall. The sad truth is that everybody falls. Our job, as decent human beings, is to help everyone get back up.